Discussion
I've been making myself say "yes." Someone I haven't seen in 30 years invited me to spend Halloween distributing candy at the house of some rich guy on a block full of folks who go all out for Halloween. I said yes.
On the train down there, I rode through the neighborhood AJ and I landed in when we moved to California in 1998. Brought up some feelings. Crying on public transport feels weird.
Then AJ's mom texted me a photo of her newly-placed gravestone.
I don't know when, or if, I'm going to go see it. It's placed in the middle of the country, in the small town she came from. I thought her family would appreciate it.
Neither of us cared about what might happen after death. Living is the interesting bit. Once you're gone, all sorts of things become "not your problem."
She's not there, under that marker. The woman I loved disappeared the moment she died. She's with me, in memory.
But there's also a stone.
I don't know where I'm going with this. The words aren't flowing this evening.
I think the right idea is to head to sleep and see if the world makes any more sense tomorrow.
I know it won't, but I can pretend long enough to drift off to sleep.
There's been a lot of "going through the motions" and hoping the meaning will come back, eventually.
Maybe tomorrow.
@signalstation My father’s cremated remains are in the front hall, for lack of a better place to put them. I’m like you—the box of ashes is a weird marker of the place he used to be, but he’s not there and never will be again. I’m hoping the urn helps my mother remember better, or maybe it can serve as a comfort for someone who visits. Maybe I’m secretly hoping it will do that for me too. I hope AJ’s stone helps their family, and that the helping in turn helps you.
@signalstation I don’t know if you need to hear this, yet grief is not something that each individual human processes at their own pace until it is bearable. I wish you good fortune with dealing with those particular issues you struggle with.
It looks good, as far as those things go. Real... permanent.
I have this "imp of the perverse" that keeps wanting to try out this joke: "I'm starting to get the feeling that she's really dead."
It's not funny, nor is it true.
I never had a dissociative moment. It's felt real the whole time.
But I was able to be sociable for the whole evening. Just stumbled a bit when I saw that my pal had put AJ's picture in a remembrance display the rich family had up.